It's The Inside That Counts
by Knightfall1138
Summary: C-Sec Detective, Garrus Vakarian, has been hardened to the bureaucratic ways of the Citadel for many years, but a new case involving an illegal organ trade may cause him to question all that he's been bred to embrace.
1. A Buyer's Market

**_*Note: This story takes place around three years before the events of Mass Effect, and is entirely based on a conversation involving Garrus Vakarian that occurs in-game.  
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* * *

Mass Effect: "It's The Inside That Counts"

Chapter One – A Buyer's Market

* * *

It was 0700, standard Citadel time, when the krogan's front door was hacked. He was half-asleep and still half-inebriated, and quite unable to respond in any manner as the C-Sec officers started tearing through his belongings without regard. Any piece of parchment he had lying around was scrutinized and placed in evidence bags while his datapads were unlocked and scanned in front of him.

"Hey," the krogan managed to groan. "That's…your stuff…Wait…" The fun and games were over and he knew that he was just embarrassing himself now, which was more sobering than anything else to his species. No matter what else was in the room, his blood prevented him from standing knowingly on a lower station.

"This is my home!" he roared, though the exertion threw him off balance. "Unless you have a—"

Suddenly, a datapad was flashed in front of his face. Words in several different languages scrolled by at a rate that made it near-impossible for him to read in his state.

When the datapad snapped back out of sight, there was a turian male standing in front of him.

"Were you about to ask for a warrant?" the turian asked snidely. "Search Warrant issued at 0700 this morning. It seems that you like to run that wide mouth of yours a little too much when you've been at the bar too long."

The krogan growled under his breath. "What's it to you? Haven't done nothing wrong."

"I never said you did," the turian replied, shifting around in his standard C-Sec uniform. "These other men here are simply looking for bits of information that you may, or may not, have stumbled upon after your recent procedure."

It took a lot to startle a krogan, and these days it took a whole lot more for a _turian_ to make one lose some ground. But that's just what happened.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied. "Haven't…Haven't done nothing wrong."

"Again," the turian continued, calmly, "I never said you had."

"Did I ever catch you name, or anything?"

"Garrus Vakarian. Detective for Citadel Security." Garrus slowly pulled up a chair so he could stare down the krogan more comfortably. "Do you want me to tell you about your procedure, or do you want to save me the trouble?"

The krogan said nothing, but ground his teeth within his massive maw.

Garrus shrugged, feigning disappointment. "Very well. Mister Randet, you were caught hiring an unlicensed doctor to perform a procedure to increase your virility. Normally, when it comes to the krogans we tend to look the other way when red flags like this pop up out of respect to your condition—"

The turian was interrupted by Randet's amused baritone. "Hehe. _My_ condition? It wasn't _my_ condition until your kind gave it to me, turian. So don't patronize me, and don't treat me like some charity case."

"Anyways," Garrus continued, ignoring the predicted comment, "I'd just like to point out to you that your procedure just happened to come at a time when the market is flooded with organs…krogan testicles included. While the doctor didn't supply your…_product_, you know who did." He leaned forward, his bright blue eyes tearing into the krogan. "We need a name."

"Heh," Randet snickered as he eased back onto his couch. "I don't got a name for you."

Garrus sighed. "Mister Randet, if you're going to turn this into a racial matter, then I'm obligated to tell you that hindering an investigation will result in your immediate incarceration. Do you understand?"

"Sounds like you memorized that out of a book or something."

"C-Sec Training Manual, Version 56-A, Section 32. Want me to quote the entire passage, or can I haul you off right now?"

"Easy there, scales," the krogan joked with a snort. "I don't got a name for you cause I don't got a name to give. It was an anonymous meeting and I sure as hell wasn't gonna ask any questions."

"Do you at least remember who you talked to about acquiring the product in the first place?"

"Turian, eavesdrop on any conversation between two krogan males, in the Citadel or anywhere else for that matter, and you'll find we're all looking for the same thing. The damn things are expensive though, for good reason, so only those of us with a steady income are given contact information."

Aggravated, Garrus sighed and rubbed the hardened slip that spanned the length of his scalp and off the back of his head. The krogan was looking like another dead end. "Can you at least tell us where you met this dealer?"

"It was about a month ago. In the markets near Chora's Den on the fifth arm."

"And there's nothing else you can tell us?"

"You caught me on a good day, turian. The only reason I'm even speaking to you is because aspects of my condition are in question. After this, I'd like it if I never saw you again unless you decide to hand over that cure for the genophage that we know you have."

Garrus sat up and turned for the door, knowing there was no more information to be had. "Take that up with the salarians."

"Who should we hate more? The men who made the bullets or the men who pulled the trigger?"

"Good day, Mister Randet."

--

Ten different angles on the vids and the suspect was completely obstructed in each of them. The markets on the fifth arm of the Citadel were notorious for their clutter. Shipping crates, piled nearly to the ceiling blocked out the camera on one angle. A vendor's umbrella was tilted just far enough to the side to block another.

It's always something, Garrus mused.

By the time he found a clear angle, the suspect had already blended in with the crowds. No sign of similar clothing or shifty individuals. The dealer simply seemed to vanish.

"Another day." He stepped the vid back thirty seconds to watch the encounter yet again. "Another dead end."

The krogan, Randet, was leaning up against the wall looking just about as nervous as his kind gets. A few seconds later, something catches his attention. The dealer, hidden behind two conversing humans in this shot, hands Randet a small cryobox. Credits are exchanged, and the dealer disappears into the crowd.

It almost seemed too convenient. If Garrus was the conspirator type, he would've assumed that everyone in that section of the market had been in on it. Ten cameras rendered useless at just the right time? It didn't make any sense. It was just unheard of.

With a sigh, he stretched out his neck and rested his head on his arm as he rewound the vid—yet again, and on a different angle.

It was then that the entrance to his office slid open, letting light into the darkened room. In the doorway stood one of Garrus' associates, Chellick, another turian with pale skin and the white markings of his tribe striped down across his cheeks and around his chin.

"Any luck?" Chellick asked in a very unexcited tone. Everyone at C-Sec that knew Garrus understood that if the turian had any sort of leads in his case, his office was the last place he'd be. So, his question was more of a request for a status report than anything else.

Garrus groaned and rubbed his brow in frustration. "Ten angles, Chellick. Ten angles and not one clear shot of this dealer. Even if I could see how many fingers this guy had, it would be _something_."

"I think you should get some sleep. Call it a night. If you haven't found anything yet, then chances are good that stressing yourself out won't help matters."

"You always tell me to get sleep whenever I see you."

"That's because you never switch off. You're one of C-Sec's best investigators, but only when you're not crashing on the job."

Without looking up from the vidscreen, Garrus indifferently said, "Would you please give me some privacy?"

Shocked, Chellick stood motionless in the doorway. Even when his fellow officer was in his worst of moods, he still managed to be polite. This last case had taken its toll, though. Garrus was shooting everyone down who offered a helping hand.

With a scoff, Chellick left the room, letting the door slide shut behind him.

Garrus finally looked up, feeling some semblance of regret, but couldn't help but drift back down into the world that this shadow had created for him. Every suspect he had come across since the investigation began were merely puppets, cut loose at even the vaguest sign of trouble, leaving their master free to continue his dark deeds.

The black market for the organ trade was flourishing. Many of Garrus' fellow detectives could only come to the conclusion that these unlicensed geneticists had come close to perfecting their trade. They guessed that it wouldn't be too long before such practices became legal and widely accepted.

But Garrus couldn't disagree more. He knew what he had seen. There was no evidence to support the theory that these scientists had simply made a breakthrough. Every underground medical facility he had shut down showed no signs of even coming close to such a thing.

No, when something works, it works. Slaughtering innocents or hijacking cadavers for their organs was still a common practice. In that sense, the turian concluded, perhaps these butchers were the ones who had perfected their trade.

The clock on his terminal showed it was 0700 again. The finish line of another day of empty investigations. He found it amazing that even on a station like the Citadel, where literally every building could be monitored and controlled remotely, leads were so hard to come by.

He felt the red tape's scalding embrace tighten around him yet again, and found his father's words bouncing around his mind telling him over and over:

_"Do thing's right, or don't do them at all."_

Garrus slammed his fist on the terminal, causing it to glitch for a moment. For every second he wasted doing the "right thing", more people were dying by this invisible butcher.

"Where are you," he groaned at the vidscreen, rewinding the clip thirty seconds again.

His body twitched. His eyes had seen something, but his tired mind could do nothing but throw up a red flag. Garrus backed up the vid again, and watched carefully, forcing his consciousness back on point.

He watched an asari enter the markets and lean up against the wall. She had a clear view of the transaction between the dealer and Randet and it seemed as if she knew what was going on. Her eyes were dead-locked on the figures until the trade was made.

Garrus continued watching until the obscured dealer disappeared, then watched to his surprise as the asari left her spot and walked off towards Chora's Den.

"Not such a dead end after all," said Garrus, a grin forming across his beak. He grabbed his pistol and folded his assault rifle up into its holster.

There was a loose end somewhere out there to tie up.


	2. Heart of Gold

* * *

Mass Effect: "It's The Inside That Counts"

Chapter Two – Heart of Gold

* * *

There were many corrupt businesses on the Citadel, but even Garrus could attest to the fact that even though Chora's Den was by far the worst of the worst, it was also by far the cleanest. Most times, even employees of the gentlemen's club were ignorant of the kinds of transactions that occurred in the backrooms.

Fist, the crime lord who had taken over the club, had overseen countless executions, struck deals that resulted in syndicate wars that claimed many innocent lives in the process, and had bribed many C-Sec officers to secure his corruption schemes that spanned the entire Citadel.

Meanwhile, the scantily-clad dancers on the main floor tended to their duties, to their onlookers' delight.

With civilian clothing draped over his C-Sec uniform, Garrus entered the club and adhered to the basic formula of keeping himself inconspicuous. He kept his head low and his hands tucked away in his side-pockets. With his eyes bashfully trained on the floor, he had the look of a man who needed the indulgence but not the attention—he blended right in.

Wading through the cigarette smoke and the stink of perfume and sweat, he slowly made his way to a booth at the far end of the club. He continued shuffling around the circular bar at the center of the floor until he came upon the dancer he was looking for.

With someone already occupying the seat in front of the dancer, Garrus moved up unreasonably close to the human until he was practically looking over the man's shoulder. Sensing unwanted eyes upon him, the man looked over.

"What the hell do you want?" he asked. Even under the pulsing red lights that lit up the club, Garrus could tell the human was red with embarrassment.

"I—I just…" Garrus deliberately stumbled with his words. "No, nevermind…"

As he turned to walk away, the man stood up, furious. "Forget it," the human grunted. "The night just ended for me." With that, the man stormed off to the bar.

Garrus took the empty seat in front of the asari dancer as she continued her seductive form to the beat of the music blaring over the speakers.

"Do you ever hate what you do?" Garrus asked honestly.

The asari didn't make eye contact, but allowed the turian a frustrated grin as she continued her dance on her personal stage.

"Only when you forget to pay me," she replied. "When I have to explain to the boss why I give out free dances to the same nervous turian every time he comes in here."

"Heh," Garrus snorted. "And what did you tell him?"

Still no eye contact, but a vicious scowl lined her face.

The turian let out a restrained laugh. "Oh, I know what you told him."

"Stop it, Garrus," the asari threatened.

"You told him that you like me," Garrus said. "That you like me, like me." He couldn't tell if it was the lighting or if the asari's sky-blue skin was actually turning red with suppressed fury.

"I know where you live," the dancer said through clenched teeth.

"And just what would you do with such information, lover?"

When the asari's dance was thrown off tempo, Garrus knew he'd won.

"Alright, alright," the turian surrendered. "I'm sorry. We can move this along now, Chandra."

It took a moment for the dancer, Chandra, to return to status quo. "What do you need?" she asked.

"I'm going to show you a picture. I need to know if you've seen this asari pass through here." Pulling a datapad out of his pocket, he pulled up the picture and briefly flashed it towards Chandra.

"Yeah, I've seen her," Chandra replied. "Andela Kal'deri. She's in here frequently. I thought she was a debt collector for Fist, but I'm not so sure anymore."

"Why not?"

"None of my other contacts know much about her. For a collector to keep herself hidden so well…it's just not possible."

Garrus leaned forward, as if enjoying the show. "Do you know what she pays Fist for?"

"I don't know," she replied. "But I imagine that you're going to get caught up in it soon enough, knowing you."

"I always plan on it, but I'm never usually that lucky." He stood up and placed a few credit slips at Chandra's feet. "See you back at C-Sec."

"Don't plan on it," she snapped back.

"You're right. Seeing you in your C-Sec uniform isn't as fun," Garrus whispered to her as he scuttled off towards the exit, pleased with getting the last word in. He didn't dare look back.

--

Garrus didn't bother to sit down when he reached his office at C-Sec Academy. He activated his terminal and ran a search on Andela Kal'deri immediately. An address popped up in the search results, but the information hadn't been updated in over a year. He didn't expect anyone involved in crime of this caliber to stay in one place for very long, but it was the only shot he had.

He transferred the results to his datapad and sprinted towards the main lobby, where he caught the lift up to the Presidium. When he emerged onto the main pathway, he was surprised to find that the artificial sunlight had been switched off—a sight that he rarely ever caught these days.

He followed the flow of the freshwater river that cut through the middle of the Presidium ring until he was on the ramp that led around to the upper pathway. At the top, his destination, the Embassies, lay in front of him.

As he entered the building, the Citadel's artificial tour-guide activated when he got too close to the node. A virtual hologram sprang to life in the form of a digitized asari.

"Welcome to the Presidium. Allow me to be your guide," she said politely.

Garrus ignored the offer as he continued inside and took the left stairway up to the Executor's office.

"Ah, Vakarian," the Executor greeted. "Good to see you again."

Each time Garrus dropped in on Venari Pallin, the turian Executor was always planted in his seat with eyes trained at his terminal. Garrus thought that at one point Pallin's tribal markings across his face had been a bright white color, but that white now seemed to have a bluish tint that reflected the keyboard he seemed to slave over.

"Good to see you too, Executor."

Pallin checked the time on his terminal. "You know, it's only been a little over a day since you came to me with that krogan in your crosshairs." He leaned forward onto his desk, threading his fingers together in front of him. "Have someone else in your sights, do you?"

"I do, indeed," Garrus replied. "An asari that I believe has a direct connection with our butcher."

"Assumptions, Vakarian?" Pallin sighed. "From what I've heard from other detectives on the investigation, there's no real consensus about what's really at the source of this organ trade. This _Butcher_ you're talking about could be something completely different."

It seemed to Garrus that they always had the same argument every time they spoke, but in a different form. "All signs point to something new in play on the Citadel."

"Perhaps the organ trade is just in flux?"

"If you had looked at the numbers, you wouldn't support that theory. In fact, _none_ of my detectives do. There is a consensus, actually. We all believe that there is someone at the end of all of this, but the conflict lies in what shape this phantom will take."

He wasn't about to lose ground in this argument. It was a test. It was always a test with the Executor. The thirty-odd years Pallin had served at C-Sec had hardened him to almost anything the scum of the Citadel had to offer. So he never signed off on a warrant unless his detectives could apply structure to the evidence.

"And you think this asari has something to do with this Butcher?" the Executor queried patiently. "How sure are you that this isn't just a disconnected buyer like the krogan was?"

"She's heavily involved with Fist's affairs, has a criminal record on file, and there's the fact that she was tailing our mystery dealer. Even if she's not directly connected with the Butcher, she knows who is."

Hearing this, Pallin eased back in his seat and stared into Garrus' eyes. Another test, Garrus assumed.

"I'll sign off on your warrant, Vakarian," Pallin finally said. "But I can't promise you that I'll sign off on another one if your hands come up empty this time around. You just barely made the cut-off with this krogan's information. If you were any other detective, I would have turned you down as soon as you walked in here. I believe in the work you do at C-Sec, and I want to give you the means to continue it. But if I'm finding it hard to justify this investigation, then the Counsel _definitely_ won't give you the benefit of the doubt if you bust down the wrong door one too many times."

He tilted his head forward and kept unblinking eye contact to accentuate his point. "Do we have an understanding, detective?"

Garrus stood at attention. "Yes, sir," he saluted flatly.

He left the Executor's office and strolled out near the river. His eyes trailed upstream, around the scattered fountains that shot water up into an umbrella of mist, past the trees that swayed with the air flow of the ring, and up towards Citadel Tower. It was a magnificent structure, massive in its construction, but elegant enough to effortlessly blend in with the buildings around it.

But it wasn't the building Garrus was staring at. He looked beyond it, at a dream that fell by the wayside long ago. It taunted him in his mind's eye and tempted him with all the treasures that it had to offer.

He couldn't help but think: Had he been a Spectre, this investigation would have been over before the first warrant was drafted.


	3. Door To Door

* * *

Mass Effect: "It's The Inside That Counts"

Chapter Three – Door To Door

* * *

Garrus and his squad of C-Sec officers arrived at Andela Kal'deri's listed home not more than three hours after the warrant had been signed. Her home was in a very nice complex on a skyscraper located in the Upper Wards of the second arm of the Citadel. But they hadn't even hacked open the door when they ran into problems.

"Something's wrong, Garrus," the human tech officer said as he fumbled with his omnitool.

"How bad is it?" asked Garrus. Jed Ondra was one of the best techs C-Sec had at their disposal. If he said they had a problem, they had a problem.

"All of the sensors inside are offline. Can't get a heat-signature. Can't get sound. Nothing at all." Jed grunted in frustration. "Everything's been disabled in there."

"How did we not get the signal at C-Sec that someone disabled their monitors?"

"She bypassed the alarm. It's difficult to do, but it's possible."

Garrus hated going into a possible firefight blind. "Just add that to her list of offenses. We'll ask her how she did it when we get her into custody."

Most of the squad broke out into smiles at Garrus' banter.

"Alright," the turian continued. "I want a clean sweep. Rules of engagement, too, fellas. Andela Kal'deri may be our last lead in this case. If she dies, her boss' location might die with her."

"Aye, sir," the squad replied in unison.

"Jed, you're up. Sandoph and Lucas, take point," Garrus ordered, waving the proper signals with one hand and unfolding his assault rifle with the other.

Jed got to work immediately, using the bright orange, holographic omnitool around his left arm to hack into the door controls. It took him longer than usual to get the door open, as evidence by the scowl the human had across his face when the task wasn't accomplished immediately.

When the door hissed open, Sandoph and Lucas, a salarian and a human respectively, took up point and rushed the door. They scanned the room quickly; aiming their rifles around in all directions until they were satisfied the room was empty.

"Clear," they said together.

On their signal, the rest of the squad moved in. The room was fairly large with rather expensive pieces of furniture scattered around. Behind the last leather couch was a window that took up the entirety of the last wall. It peered out over the Wards, active and alive with the lights of millions of structures, and the faint sparkle of the endless vehicle traffic in between gave the station a pulse to finish off the illusion.

This was all set against a marvelous view of the Serpent Nebula beyond, a thick fog of illumination that constantly shifted between shades of lighted pink and purple. It was the sea through which the Citadel drifted.

"We must have missed her, sir," Jed insinuated. "Either that or she abandoned this place a long time ago."

Garrus considered this theory, but he couldn't accept it for some reason. It didn't add up.

"Disabling every monitoring device in this room is a tremendous task to undertake if she was just going to leave," Garrus said. "There has to be some reason she did this."

"Some people just like their privacy," Jed offered. "I'd probably disable my sensors, too if I didn't know how little C-Sec spies on the thirteen million people here."

The room didn't look lived in. The furniture was needlessly expensive and scattered about in no real pattern. The sensors were disabled, but there was nothing to hide. Garrus kept going over the facts and continuously coming up short.

"This is the house she has on record," he mused aloud. "The sensors…wait…" He caught himself. It was then he admitted that he was tired. "Criminals with her kind of money never register their homes. It's all done under the table. She registered this place and disabled the sensors so it would send up all sorts of red flags."

The squad seemed to be keeping up with the deductions, but Jed was the first to speak up.

"Then, why would she register this place?" he asked.

Garrus fell back into thought again for a moment. Then he shuddered. This time, his mind had seen something his eyes hadn't.

"Lucas, bring up the vids for the monitors out here in the hallway," Garrus snapped. "Now!"

As Lucas linked up to C-Sec to access the files, Garrus signaled for everyone to exit the room.

When they were clear, the turian turned to Jed. "Seal the door back up," he said calmly, though there was distress marking his tone. "Hurry."

Again, Jed got to work. His hands moved at a frantic rate across his omnitool, knowing there was a valid reason why Garrus kept a worried look trained on him. "Almost got it, sir."

The door began closing, but not all at once, only at small increments every other second. Jed tried to override it, but was met with a lockout he'd never seen before.

"Can't do anything more, sir," said Jed.

Garrus motioned to his squad. "Get away from the door! Find something to hold onto!" At his order, everyone rushed around to find something, but came up short. It was a rather plain hallway.

The explosion on the other end of the closing door sent flames and shattered glass through the opening, injuring Sandoph as he tried to flee. He was still in shock when the vacuum reached him.

"Sandoph!" Garrus called. "Run! Now!" But his cries had no effect. The salarian was still groping his wounds when he lost his footing, and was sucked violently through the closing door as the room decompressed behind it.

The door hadn't closed yet by the time the emergency blast doors fell into place over the shattered window.

When the air pressure had returned to normal, the squad took in long, deep breaths. Their hearts were collectively pounding, and ached with the loss of their fellow teammate.

Garrus, himself, was still at a loss. It took a moment of silence for him to sort through what had just happened. He feared that Sandoph was dead because of his delayed reaction—his inability to analyze the task at hand as fast as he could have typically.

Chellick's words came rushing back to him. Had his stubborn, self-induced fatigue just gotten a man killed?

He was just barely able to push the accusing thoughts out of his mind so that he could focus on the situation. There was still work to be done, and an asari out there somewhere who would pay the price for this chaos.

Struggling to gain his footing, Garrus hobbled over to Lucas, who still had his omnitool out.

"Were you able to find the footage?" asked Garrus, weakly.

The turian's voice snapped Lucas back down to reality. Without a word, he punched a few more buttons and brought up the vid.

On the holoscreen, Garrus watched as he gave Jed the order to hack open the door. When it opened, he watched Lucas and Sandoph take point and lead the rest of the squad in. There was no motion for a few moments until another door down the hall opened, and a familiar asari strolled off in the direction of the lifts.

They had been walking into a trap the entire time, and Garrus never saw it coming.


	4. Echoes in the Dark

* * *

Mass Effect: "It's The Inside That Counts"

Chapter Four – Echoes in the Dark

* * *

Reinforcements were on the scene within the hour, and right away the C-Sec techs wasted no time hacking open every single room on the level. They found that the explosion hadn't just taken out the window of the one room, but of all the other rooms on the floor as well. Though, they couldn't tell if they all belonged to the asari or if they'd be finding more corpses floating around outside the Citadel when Randoph's body was eventually retrieved.

Garrus was slow to act on anything for the rest of the day. He moved from one room to the next, looking over what the investigators found or simply staring off blankly into space. The turian looked dead pale, and no one dared bothered him as they tended to their duties.

When Chellick arrived, Garrus knew he'd be answering for something. Chellick stepped over the debris and mangled machinery as he made his way to where his partner stood.

"Sitrep," Chellick asked.

It was a moment before Garrus answered, "Um…Ah, we arrived to take the asari suspect into custody, but she had laid a trap for us."

"For you?"

"The entire room might have just been a diversion if she was ever put under scrutiny. The intruders walk in, maybe she was alerted when we hacked the door, and when she was safely away then…" Garrus' eyes wandered.

Chellick wasn't getting the full story. He needed details and a full report before they could pursue any leads beyond this disaster. "Vakarian, I know we do have this conversation every time we speak, but I need you to go home and rest. You're too rattled to even give a decent report, so, no offense, but you're not very useful at the moment."

Hearing this, Garrus was about to offer his objections but the guilt of the situation knocked him back to silence.

"We'll take care of this," assured Chellick. "We're going to do a full sweep of all the rooms. If we find anything, we'll contact you. In the meantime, sleep. I need all of you here in case something turns up. Understood?"

Garrus nodded and left the room without another word.

--

Everything in the Presidium felt too bright. Too cheerful. The artificial sunlight emanating from the faux clouded and blue sky above seemed to taunt him. One of his own had died this day, and the universe kept right on smiling.

He reached his quarters and immediately crashed onto his bed. His mind was still plagued with images from that day, and in his tired state he wasn't able to fend them off. But soon, the audible pulse that beat through his ears from his heart caught his attention. And the metronome within his chest persuaded him off to sleep for the first time in days.

--

The images flashed by faster than he could process them. As his sleep became deeper, the images slowed so that he was able to at least recognize them. Deeper still, and he was able to question what he saw.

It had been a year that had begun in celebration, but was marked with grisly slaughter. His first few months had gone off without a hitch. As the newest inductee to the Investigation Division of Citadel Security, he was handed cases that ranged from time-consuming to stressful, but never unbearable. He knew he was never meant to fall into what eventually happened.

Vandalism is what he had been investigating. He found it almost enjoyable at the time, as the crimes had a very simple pattern to follow. They were never spread out or in vastly different locations. The areas were always close to each other, and it was a simple matter of knowing where the next strike would be.

Since it was only vandalism, he took his time drawing out the evidence. Making his case air-tight so that when the arrest came, it would be a slam dunk (as the humans would always call such a victory). So he waited. And waited. Following every procedure by the books.

On the night of the scheduled arrest, it was only he and his partner—confident that this intruder would play right into their hands.

But on the night of the scheduled arrest, nothing happened.

He backtracked the pattern, questioning himself every step of the way. Yet, he found out second-handedly what had happened as they waited on the other end of the Wards.

Every single owner of every single home that was vandalized that week had disappeared. Doors had been crumpled inwards as if they hadn't been made of solid duranium. There was blood smeared in places where a struggle had taken place, but investigators could tell that those captives who resisted weren't able to do much.

He followed the clues—as plentiful as they were in the light of such carnage—and eventually arrived at a warehouse in a rundown corner of the Lower Wards on the first arm.

This time, he had two-hundred C-Sec officers at his back when he kicked down the doors and found—

--

Garrus thrashed around in his bed, grabbing and clawing at the air until he tumbled onto the ground. The images slowly faded away as he regained his consciousness from his dream-state. He breathed deep, trying to calm himself down, and pulled a blanket off of his bed to wipe the sweat from his face.

The clock on his nightstand read 1300 hours. He had been asleep for nearly an entire day. Cursing under his breath, he pulled out his communicator and discovered that he hadn't been contacted once.

Standing up, and straightening his uniform, Garrus practically sprinted off through the Presidium. With his energy more than renewed, the run hardly increased his heart-rate. When he finally arrived at the lift below the Embassies, he found himself stomping on the floor in an attempt to make the cursed thing descend faster. If there was anything he could point to in the entire Citadel that was behind in the times, it was the lift system.

The door hissed open and he was already making his way across the lobby and up the stairs to the offices. He passed his own office and rounded the corner into Chellick's.

"Garrus?" Chellick looked a bit startled. "Haven't seen your eyes this wide in days. Welcome back."

"Yeah, yeah." Garrus ignored the quips. "Any new developments?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. During our sweeps of the explosion site, we came upon a cryobox stuffed inside a hidden compartment. It was a good thing our asari overlooked it, because otherwise I honestly don't think we'd have a case anymore. Every stick of evidence beyond this was either destroyed or flushed out in the decompression."

Garrus couldn't believe what he was hearing. "And what was in this cryobox you found?"

Chellick snickered. "You're never going to believe this." He stood up from his seat. "A turian liver."

At a loss for words, Garrus began several sentences before finally saying, "Why didn't you tell me of this, Chellick? Any updates to the investigation are supposed to go through me. No exceptions."

"Calm down, Vakarian. I know this, but you needed that day off. We don't even have the DNA results back from it yet. And trust me, I would have called you down the second we got any results. There's no way I'd risk that kind of heat coming from you."

Garrus had been building himself up for an argument, but found it futile to take it any further. "I'm not so sure I needed that day off. Couldn't help but dream about…"

Chellick wasn't sure what Garrus was talking about at first, but it quickly donned on him. "Your first year on the job?" He received a solemn nod. "There was nothing you could have done to get to them any quicker. Those people were dead long before we even knew what was going on."

"But we waited, Chellick!" Several years had passed since the incident, but Garrus still couldn't help getting worked up about it. "We lived by the book while those people died by it! That's all they kept telling me that entire time we scouted for evidence, 'We have to build an air-tight case.' Meanwhile, that elcor was going around window shopping for his victims. That first day, we could have tracked him down, but to the higher-ups it wasn't worth getting C-Sec's hands dirty.

"I don't want that to happen again, Chellick. People are dying as we speak and I intend on taking any opportunity to find the killer."

As if waiting for his cue, Chellick patiently waited until his friend ceased his rant. "We've been over this many times before, Garrus. You have to let that incident go. You have to realize that catching the bad guy does the citizens no good if we become the bad guys in the process. Then where does that leave us? Leaves us holding the gun, crying 'justice' while the innocents around us are suffering from bullet-wounds."

There was a long silence between them. A moment of consideration for both sides of the spectrum, but it was all interrupted by a voice ringing out over the intercom, _"Detective Chellick, we've identified the owner of the liver."_

Chellick clicked the transmit button. "Who's the John Doe?"

The voice replied in a humored tone, _"Why don't you ask him yourself, Detective. He's still alive."_


	5. The Missing Piece

* * *

Mass Effect: "It's The Inside That Counts"

Chapter Five – The Missing Piece

* * *

They weren't going to make the same mistake twice. When the identity of the liberated liver's owner was confirmed, Garrus' entire squad was enforced by two units from the Special Response Division of C-Sec. The entire perimeter of the home was locked down, and every sensor in the immediate area was hacked into in case the man made a break for it.

_"This is Unit One, we have the rear entrance secured. Over."_

"Copy that," Garrus replied over the comm.

The head of Unit Two approached the turian just then. "Our techs confirmed it. There is one heat signature inside the dwelling, sir. Just say the word and we'll breach."

Garrus nodded. "The word is given."

There was no hesitation. The door was already hacked open and an entire unit of ten S.R.D.'s stormed the building. There was the loud shouting of orders and stomps that cascaded throughout the entire structure as the sweep continued. Less than a minute later, Garrus heard over the comm, _"Area secured. Suspect in custody. No resistance, over."_

"Very good. Don't haul him away yet, I need a chance to speak with him." Garrus ran inside, past several officers at ease, and into a small living room where a very bewildered turian sat, nearly shivering.

Garrus looked back over his file. "Rygal Kenteria? Is that you?"

Rygal nodded faintly. "Yes, that's me…"

"Good. Now, we don't mean to startle you, Mister Kenteria, but do you know why we're here?"

The turian shook his head frantically.

"Do you recognize this?" Garrus held up his datapad and pulled up a picture of the confiscated liver. "Does it look at all familiar?"

Rygal seemed disgusted at the image. "What is that? Ugh!"

Garrus couldn't hide his confusion. "Did you make any sort of…_bodily donations_ recently?"

"Bodily donations?" Rygal was slowly slipping from fright into annoyance. "Do you always talk in code? Just tell me what this is!"

"This is your liver, Mister Kenteria," Garrus replied, matter-of-factly. "It was found in an asari gangster's home. You wouldn't by chance happen have an alibi for it, would you?" He couldn't help but joke with the man.

"My…My liver?" The turian shook his head again. "I don't understand. That can't be from me."

"Why not?"

"Well, for one, I think I'd remember having my liver removed…Which I _haven't_."

"Is it possible that someone did this without you knowing? Do you have any enemies?"

Rygal shrugged, finding all of this hard to believe. "Anything's possible these days, I suppose, but I haven't come close to any sort of clinic in over a year."

"This liver was removed from your system just over a month and a half ago. Were you involved in anything during that time? This is very important, Mister Kenteria."

"No, I'm just a maintenance worker at the docks! I have a clean safety record. There hasn't been a reason for me to go anywhere near a clinic since…" Rygal trailed off, looking a bit startled.

"Mister Kenteria?" Garrus tried to regain the man's attention. "Mister Kenteria, are you alright?"

After a moment in thought, Rygal spoke as if whatever he found within his mind had frightened him. "I think it _was_ a little over a month ago…I was given a note at work that I was to report to a physician that day. It was something concerning the blood work that I had on file…"

"Go on," Garrus beckoned.

"So, after work, I went to the address and sat down in the waiting room. The receptionist…an asari…she told me the doctor would be with me in a moment. But I waited and waited for nearly an hour and no one came to see me. Before I knew it, the receptionist was waking me up in the waiting room. She said I had fallen asleep and that the doctor didn't need to see me after all. I threw a fit and left, but I never thought anything of it after that."

This was the motherlode that Garrus had been waiting for, but never thought he'd find. "Do you remember anything about your visit there? Where the building was located? The name of the doctor?"

"I—I hardly remember. Like I said, I didn't think anything of it." Rygal struggled with his thoughts. "Oh! I still have the paper! It has the address on it!" He leapt up from his chair and ran to an adjacent room.

The S.R.D.'s raised their weapons in alert, but Garrus motioned for them to stand at ease.

Rygal dug through several drawers of parchment looking for the information, but found nothing. "It was here…It was here, I know it!" Before long, every single drawer he had in the room was torn open and searched. "Damn it! I know I put it here after work that day! It was…Oh…" He reached over and picked up a slip of paper sitting alone on his nightstand. "Here it is."

Garrus snatched the paper out of his hand. He looked over it many times, excitedly, before he was even able to process the words upon it. There was no name, but there was an address. And that, if nothing else, would ensure that the case would continue.

They were getting close.

After a moment of silence, Rygal finally spoke up in a nervous tone. "Hey, um…Yeah, do you think I can get my liver back?"

--

He could have had one of his techs do all of the research right there in Rygal's house, but Garrus wanted find out this butcher's identity himself. He wanted to sit there in the comfort of his office and know the face of his enemy.

Carefully, he typed in the address. It was a small medical clinic in a very nice neighborhood in the Upper Wards on the fifth arm. Very inconspicuous—Garrus had passed by the complex at least once during his patrols, he was sure of it. He found it amazing that so much could happen in places where he'd been at arm's length away at times.

He hit the execute button. Information began to flash across the screen, listing the criminal history in the surrounding area, the schematics for the actually facility, and, finally, the previous owners.

This time, there were no doubts about it. The owner listing had been updated not even two weeks ago. He clicked on the name, and a record of arrest and prosecution was brought up.

Garrus couldn't believe it. The owner's rap sheet was almost empty. The worst infraction listed was a complaint of conduct, followed by a complaint for poor working conditions—both were made anonymously, which was why the incidents were never investigated thoroughly.

He didn't know what to expect when he clicked the name. Whether he was hoping for a record that spanned the length of the Citadel Tower or one so clean that it raised suspicion, either way, Garrus was honestly surprised.

But that didn't matter. He had his next suspect, and Rygal Kenteria's testimony would be more than enough to get the Executor to sign off on another warrant.

With another click, Garrus pulled up a photo of the clinic's owner, and he stared into his eyes.

It was a salarian, almost attempting to look innocent. Under the photo, in bright lettering, was the name: Dr. Traysee Saleon, M.D.


	6. An Apple a Day

* * *

Mass Effect: "It's The Inside That Counts"

Chapter Six – An Apple A Day

* * *

Chellick and Garrus sat in their C-Sec transport. They had landed as close as they could get to the clinic without making a scene, and they waited. It was a moment of reflection for the both of them. Nearly a month had passed since they had picked up the investigation, and they had stirred up so much activity in only the past few days that they couldn't help but wonder.

Was this really at an end?

"Let's go get our guy," Garrus said, and the two turians left the transport and walked briskly towards the medical clinic.

Inside the facility, a human orchestra piece was playing softly over the speaker system. Around them was a cramped room with five or six chairs that lined the walls. Off in the corner, a small table with a potted plant and several token pieces of reading material sitting upon it. Aside from these, the room was almost unbearably plain.

The glass receptionist's window seemed to add character to the room.

Garrus stepped up to the window, with Chellick moving around so he had a clear shot if something happened, and clicked a button on the ledge to hail for attention. A few seconds later, the glass barrier slid to the side and an asari receptionist appeared, with a beaming smile pressed across her face.

"May I help you, gentlemen?" she asked politely.

Garrus never forgot a face. "Yes, thank you. I'd very much like to make an appointment to see Doctor Saleon, if his schedule isn't too overwhelmed."

The receptionist didn't answer right away. Instead, she looked over the turian's body as if there was something to be seen. "You know, the Doctor is actually free right now if you'd like to get in immediately."

"Right now, you say?" Garrus feigned excitement. "Well, that would be wonderful. I'd love to be seen now." He turned back to his partner. "Would you keep an eye on the transport for me?"

"Oh, he can take a seat in the waiting room, if he'd like," the asari snapped, almost desperately.

"No, that's fine. He has nothing better to do in life, anyway." Garrus waved Chellick away, remembering Rygal Kenteria's story about the waiting room.

Chellick groaned as he sauntered out through the exit, cursing under his breath to keep up his cover.

When they were alone, the asari led Garrus through a door and into a small hallway that was lined with three rooms in addition to the small receptionist's area. "Right this way," she said, and directed the turian to the very last room.

Inside, the good doctor was already waiting for them. The salarian had dark skin with a green tint to it. His very wide eyes displayed a redish shine under the fluorescents that seemed to flare up with anticipation as Garrus entered the room.

"Welcome," said the doctor, his thin lips turning up to form a smile. "My name is Doctor Traysee Saleon."

Garrus nodded at the introduction, but provided none in return.

"Very well," Saleon said. "What seems to be wrong with you, Mister Turian?"

"Nothing's wrong, doctor," Garrus replied. "Just had to see if it was really you."

The salarian let out a short laugh. "Well, my name is on the sign outside. Have you heard some good things about me?"

"Nothing very positive." The turian moved forward. "Fellow turian came to me. Seems something of his went missing while he was here."

Saleon seemed genuinely confused. "Well, what did he lose? We do have a lost and found behind the—"

Garrus cut him off. "His liver, doctor." He turned to the asari receptionist, not an ounce of mercy reflected in his stare. "Perhaps your receptionist can fill you in. We found it in her apartment…"

The asari suddenly bolted for the door, but Garrus had been ready for this. His arm swung out, grabbed the woman by the neck and slammed her to the ground in front of him. She struggled, screamed, and scratched at everything she could reach.

"Now, Chellick," Garrus said into his comm.

Every single door in the facility whipped open as the override took effect. Then the heavy footfalls of officers from the Special Response Division echoed through the hallway. Saleon tried to edge his way to the door, but was instantly caught and pushed up against the wall.

"What is this?!" Saleon shouted. "You have no right to do this! I want all of your badge numbers!"

When Garrus was done slapping handcuffs on the asari, he turned to the doctor and repeated the process. "Doctor Traysee Saleon and Andela Kal'deri, you are both under arrest for instigating the illegal trafficking of living tissue. Under the Quietus Act, you have the right to remain silent during these proceedings, but anything said can and will be used as evidence against your case while engaged in Arbitration."

When he was done reading their rights, the turian ordered the officers to haul them away. "Get them acquainted with the Academy brig."

Saleon stopped his struggling, and was suddenly very calm. He walked with his arresting officer and smiled pleasantly at Garrus as he was taken away. "You're making a mistake," he taunted.

Garrus was about to respond, but couldn't get over the look of confidence that the salarian had. The man was unworried, stable, and convinced there was no trouble in store for him.

The turian couldn't help but wonder why.

--

It was 0700, standard Citadel time, when a roar shot through the halls of C-Sec Academy. Everyone in the lobby was stopped in their tracks, and the officers who were privy to the situation hung their heads in disappointment.

From the direction of the offices, Garrus stormed out. His face was red with anger, his fists were clenched, and every step he took was a loud stomp. Anyone in his way desperately changed their stance and cleared a path that led to the lifts out of the Academy.

When he was out in the Presidium, the bright and unchanged setting taunted him even more than it had previously. The river, the fountains, the artificial sky, clouds, and sunlight. It all screamed at him, _Nothing ever changes_.

He slammed his fist into the railing that ran along the river. He did this over and over until the pain managed to distract his attention from what had just happened, if only just minutely.

"Vakarian!" It was Chellick, who had followed behind him in the next lift. "What the hell did you think you were doing back there?!"

Garrus ignored him and turned his sights back on the flowing water, hoping it would carry him away.

"Don't you dare do this to me. You came _this_ close to being thrown off the case!"

"What case?!" Garrus bellowed. "Saleon's gonna walk! What's the point?"

"None of us have given up on this, Garrus. I'm surprised that you, of all people, are the one I have to talk down. You can't let this end here."

Hearing Chellick's reassurance helped Garrus calm down significantly. He took a deep breath and stretched some of the tension out of his muscles. "Alright," he said, "where do we go from here?"

Chellick was pleased his partner had finally come to his senses. "Well, for one, we have to find a way to directly link these crimes to Saleon. We went in their far too fast when we should have waited—" _We waited, Chellick._ "—so the Arbiters just linked all the crimes to the asari. So, let's just drop what we had and focus on the information we were able to extract from his medical clinic."

"Then we'll just go down the list. Clients, associates, former employees…See what we can find."

Chellick clapped Garrus on the shoulder. "That's the spirit. We're not done yet. We won't make the same mistake twice."

As his partner returned back to the Academy, Garrus fell back into thought. They had finally come close to putting the Butcher of the Citadel away for good, but a close inspection of the medical clinic turned up absolutely nothing. No organs of any kind, and hardly a few drops of blood in the biohazard containers.

The only one who would be going away would be the asari, Andela Kal'deri, for her part in the explosion at the apartment complex, and for the death of a Citadel officer. Not the ending that Garrus had hoped for.

His first year at C-Sec, he had waited, and people died for it. This time, there was no hesitation, and there was a very good chance that, again, people would die for it. He couldn't find that middle ground. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how closely he held his morals to his heart, evil would always prevail.

Because for the wicked, there were no boundaries. There was no middle ground.

Garrus would always tell himself that he was at C-Sec to change lives. But he was beginning to realize that there was nothing there to change.


	7. From The Brink

* * *

Mass Effect: "It's The Inside That Counts"

Chapter Seven – From The Brink

* * *

-_**Three Months Later-**_

The commanding officers of the Investigation Division of C-Sec would always liken their duties to that of a ground transport encountering a solid steel wall: "Even when there's no where else to go, the wheels keep on turning."

Leaving Doctor Saleon's case was a difficult task for Garrus Vakarian. For an entire week, he had reviewed every stick of evidence that had been collected, taken pages of notes on everything, and created charts displaying the flow of corruption from Saleon to alleged buyers.

It was Chellick who eased up next to him one day and told him those three sharpened words, "Let it go."

Garrus looked up, acknowledged all the steps he had taken and realized he was still running in place.

Chellick told him to let it all go, so he did.

For the next few months, his tasks resumed at their regular pace. He was back to the norm. Tracking down arson rings, investigating death threats, reclaiming stolen goods. Garrus remembered when following through with such tasks would leave him moving about with a sense of pride. But now, he couldn't feel anything. Nothing could satisfy him while that monster lurked somewhere out there on the fifth arm.

--

It was a quiet time of the day. No assignments. Nothing that the Enforcement Division of C-Sec couldn't handle on their own. Garrus just let the silence roll in as he sat behind his desk. He used to dread such stagnation, but now he hadn't the mental faculty to deny it. No urge to seek out new cases. No initiative to accomplish anything around the Academy.

He just sat. Daydreaming of that opportunity that was denied him. No, the opportunity that _he_ denied.

With Spectre status, there would be no hesitation. No waiting. There wouldn't be evidence. There would be that gut feeling that told him that Saleon was his Butcher, and that would be that. No questions asked. No warrants signed.

He watched himself grip his pistol tightly as he made his way into the medical clinic. He could hear the screams of the doctor's victims as the salarian's deadly trade continued, but this time there would be someone to hear the screams—someone to save them. He saw himself open the last door, with the gore from the recent slaughter draped all about the room, with the good Doctor Saleon standing in the middle of it all.

He watched himself take aim. Watched as the fear built in the doctor's wide eyes.

Then…

_"Garrus, are you there?"_ Chellick's voice rang over the comm.

Garrus woke up, pushing himself up off of his desk and fumbling with his communicator. "Yeah, what is it?"

_"Come down here to Interrogation Room Two. We've managed to dig up another witness from Saleon's file."_

"I'll be right there." Garrus promised himself he'd see to every witness, but it had been three months since Doctor Saleon went free, and not one from the list had anything useful to say.

--

The witness was a human female. Garrus watched her mannerisms through the one-way window for a few minutes before entering. The entire time he had watched, the woman couldn't help but continuously rub her knuckles together in anxiety.

"Good evening, ma'am," Garrus greeted politely. "My name is Garrus Vakarian, from the Investigation Division of Citadel Security. How are you doing today, Miss…" He checked the info on his datapad. "…Jeanie Weaver?"

Jeanie began to shiver at the question. "Yes, that's me." She swallowed and started blinking rapidly. "Am…Am I in trouble…or something?"

"Oh, no, no," replied Garrus, making the extra effort to talk calmly. "We'd just like you to answer a few questions. That's all. Then we'll take you back home in the nicest transport we have. How does that sound?"

"Well…Your transport is probably nicer than my home…So…" She trailed off, rubbing her arm.

"Okay." The turian quickly moved on. "Three months ago, we were investigating a salarian by the name of Traysee Saleon. The records we confiscated from his clinic listed you as a former employee."

"Former?" The human was shocked into fright. "Did you say _'former'_?"

Garrus looked back to the datapad. "That's what we have in our records, Miss Weaver. Is there some sort of inconsistency with this claim?"

"Yeah!" She covered her mouth, embarrassed. "I'm sorry. Yes, yes. There must be some sort of mistake…It's a mistake…It has to be."

"Can you explain what your job entailed at the clinic?"

"I…I can't explain it…" Jeanie began to twirl her brown hair around in her fingers. "I don't think I'm allowed to."

"Are you in fact still employed at the clinic?" Garrus pressed her.

"I have to be…"

"Alright, that's a start…I guess. When was the last time you were required to be there?"

Jeanie sat there, shivering in place for a few moments. Then, she began to rub her arms as if she was cold.

The human's behavior was starting to concern Garrus. Judging from the woman's file, she had been living in a very poor part of the Lower Wards for most of her life. Not only is crime a prevalent concern there, but drug usage runs rampant in that area as well. He was worried she had been exposed to some sort of virus recently, or was going through the early stages of withdrawals from being held at the Academy for most of the day.

"Are you okay?" Garrus asked, honestly. "Are you cold? I can have one of our officers bring you—"

"Did the file really say _'former'_?" she interrupted him, unbelieving.

"As far as our records are concerned, yes."

Jeanie's face turned red and her eyes glistened with pooling tears. She pressed her fists against her temples as if she was getting a headache, and she bared her teeth from the pain. "He said!" she cried.

Garrus stood up and moved along side her. "Who are you talking about?"

Losing her balance, the woman fell into the turian's arms, clutching him, and looking up into his bright blue eyes with a look that begged for help. "He said I'd be fine…" she said through a weak smile.

As the woman began to lose consciousness, Garrus felt something warm begin to soak through his uniform. He eased her forward. The mandibles on either side of his face twitched at what he saw.

"I need a medic in here!" he shouted.

Jeanie's shirt was soaked in blood. It dripped from several points on her torso and out onto the floor. Her skin had paled considerably by the time the medics showed up with a stretcher.

Garrus followed them all the way to sickbay, keeping the woman's hand held in his as she gripped his talon-like fingers tightly. When the emergency surgeons showed up, they cut open Jeanie's shirt and investigated the wounds.

"We need to operate," said the doctor. "Detective, I'm going to need you to leave."

The turian carefully released the woman's hand and began to back out of the room. Before they closed the door on him, Jeanie Weaver's sad gaze locked on to Garrus. She smiled as best she could, persuading the tears out from her eyes.

Garrus could barely hear her voice as she said, "Tell the doctor I'm sorry."

The door closed between them.


	8. One Eighty

* * *

Mass Effect: "It's The Inside That Counts"

Chapter Eight – One-Eighty

* * *

Long after he got the news, Garrus was still sitting in the waiting room. His rage was near its boiling point and he certainly didn't need anything setting it off. So he kept to the neutral blandness of the room, waiting for his pulse to slow.

Thinking about what Doctor Saleon was doing out in his own little world was one thing, but for Garrus to watch those acts spill over into his world was another.

Jeanie Weaver was dead. By the time the surgeons were able to stitch up the first incision, she had lost too much blood. Her heart slowed and she fell asleep. The doctors did their best, but the woman never woke up.

Further examination of the wounds indicated "marks made of precision." They had been made by one with a steady hand—a doctor's touch, perhaps. Since it was relevant to the investigation, the autopsy was quick to begin.

All Garrus had to do was wait for the results; information that he would have rather received from conversation with the now departed.

When Harkin, another C-Sec officer, came walking through the room, Garrus had been waiting two hours for the autopsy results. He wasn't sure if that was enough time to talk himself down enough to even look at the human.

"Hey there, Garry!" Harkin greeted loudly, the stink of liquor spilling out of his mouth. "Looking kinda down today."

Garrus focused on the calming silence on the room, the very spirit of it, and begged it to give him the strength to resist what his conscience was screaming at him to do. "Would you please give me some privacy, Harkin? This is not a good time."

"Huh?" Harkin didn't seem to get it. "Who pissed in your cereal, turian? I was just sayin' halloo."

"Keep walking, Harkin."

"You know, I kept hearing this rumor around the offices. They let me in on what was going on down here. Frankly, I gotta say, I'm surprised. I didn't think you boys had it in you to have a soft spot for the ladies."

"Walk away, Harkin." Garrus kept resisting, but the spirit wasn't whispering back at him.

Harkin leaned over the turian, bracing himself on a nearby wall. "Hell, Garry, if you're into disease and danger, I can tell you were you can find loads more women like her."

Garrus sat up.

Harkin didn't have time to blink.

In one motion, the turian brought his foot down on one of Harkin's boots just before he slammed his fist into the human's face. Harkin tried to catch his balance, but the shock, the pain, and his foot being anchored to the ground made him topple over flat onto his back.

Garrus was already back in his seat when the human started getting back up.

"What?" Harkin sat up, running his fingers through his mouth and finding them coated in blood. "You punched me!"

"Now what gave you that idea?" The turian seemed genuinely surprised.

Harkin clumsily returned to his feet, and wiped the blood from his mouth with his forearm. "I'll have your badge for this, Vakarian," he threatened. "You'll be out of here by the end of the day."

"Very well, Harkin. Go to Ambassador Udina and lay out your case against me. Hell, go spout your story to the Executor, for that matter. Try telling them anything with the smell of alcohol spewing out with every syllable and see just how far you get. If you need me, you know where to find me, _Harky_."

Harkin sneered at the turian. With a smile and a nod, he calmly accepted what had just formed between them. Then, falling obscenely quiet, he walked away.

--

"I'm not sure how close you were to her," the surgeon said. "Are you sure you want to see this?"

Garrus knew that the time he shared with Jeanie Weaver was ever so brief, but the thought of seeing her on the slab suddenly tore at his heart. During the dying minutes of her life, the woman had placed every inch of trust she could possibly give to the turian, and he still felt like he was still keeping it safe.

He decided against it.

"Just tell me your findings, doctor," Garrus said solemnly.

"Alright," the human continued without pressing the subject. "Miss Weaver died from severe blood loss on account of the incisions that had been made across her torso. What we didn't realize when we were stitching her up that…Well, she had already been stitched up."

"I don't follow."

"The reason she began bleeding when you were interviewing her was on account of the stress. Her constant shifting around, in conjunction with her high blood pressure ruptured the plasmic stitches. There was nothing that could be done for her at that point."

Garrus nodded. "Is that all you found?"

The doctor shifted around and scratched the back of his head. "No, that's…No. It's what we found during the autopsy that we believe is relevant to your investigation…"

"Please continue, doctor."

After taking a deep breath, the surgeon continued. "You've got to understand, I've never had to deal with this before, so I'm still trying to wrap my mind around it. But…The victim had an excess of…_organs_ within her chest cavity."

Garrus nearly took a step back. "An excess of organs? Can you…elaborate? Please, humor me."

"From our preliminary findings, we've found an extra pair of kidneys, her liver was nearly doubled in size, and another…stomach was reaching maturity. Honestly, Detective, I don't know how she was even able to walk around."

Both of them fell silent as they tried to reason through the evidence. Garrus was the first to finally speak.

"Did you say her spare stomach hadn't reached maturity?" he asked. "What did you mean by that?"

"Well," the doctor pushed up his glasses, "it was, for all intents and purposes, very underdeveloped. But it's genetically identical to her…primary stomach. If I had to guess, I'd say someone was…I don't know…_growing_ these organs within her. It would account for the incisions and the plasmic stitches used to hide the scars."

Right then, something clicked within Garrus' mind. The spare organs, Jeanie's reactions to his questions, it was all making some amount of sense. He decided to run with it. "Doctor, if I bring in some more people, would you be able to check if they've had the same procedure done to them?"

The surgeon nodded slightly. "I'm sure I could."

"Good." Garrus turned and started walking away.

"Where are you going, Detective?" the doctor called after him.

"Going to keep a promise!" the turian called back. "Going to meet with Jeanie's doctor…"

--

Over the next few days, Garrus had Chellick call in all of the witnesses they had interviewed since Doctor Saleon's release. One by one, they reported to the C-Sec surgeon. Some resisted and broke down before they even reached the examination table, some reluctantly cooperated, and some even claimed they had nothing to hide.

After the last employee was inspected, the doctor had found a total of six people with at least one spare organ growing within them, and two more with detectable scarring where something had been removed.

To top it all off, Garrus had the asari who had taken the fall for Saleon, Andela Kal'deri, brought in for questioning. He had that feeling of a slam dunk case coming back to him, and he loved it.

"Miss Kal'deri, good to see you again," he said.

The asari said nothing and kept her blue-skinned hands folded together in front of her.

"It's funny—well, I thought it was funny—that you got pinned for nearly everything that Doctor Saleon would've received. Yet, you didn't say a word. You didn't object. You just…_submitted_. I find that funny, because, with the exception of that little stunt that got a friend of mine killed, you didn't do…anything. You were just the go-to girl for the real criminal. The real mastermind."

Nothing.

"You might be going away for a life sentence…Well, I suppose one-hundred years isn't all that long to your kind, but that's the best case scenario for you here on the Citadel. It's also possible that you'll get the death penalty, which is a very rare occurrence these days, but killing an officer isn't well received around here.

"Or…" He placed his hands on the desk in front of her. "We could just hand you over to the asari judicial system on Thessia." Seeing Andela's eye twitch, Garrus continued. "You know how important the workings of the Citadel are to them back home, don't ya? Hearing you killed an officer of the law to further your organ trafficking scheme would just make them all kinds of pleasant, I bet. And I hear they know just how to treat a lady like you for infractions like that."

Still, the asari said nothing. Yet, her eyes couldn't seem to stay focused on any one spot on the desk.

Garrus shrugged. "Have it your way. I'll just give the asari counselor a call right now and see what she thinks about—"

"Wait!" Andela suddenly pleaded. "Please, don't call them…"

The turian turned back around, forcing away a grin that had formed on his face. "Are you gonna tell me what I need to know about Doctor Saleon?"

Andela seemed to struggle with the concept for a moment, but would eventually come to say, "I'll tell you."

--

It was 0700 when Garrus stepped through the door into Executor Pallin's office. Neither of them said anything, but let the repercussions of what they were about to do pass between them.

Pallin had read the report. He didn't argue. Didn't question. Didn't test.

He simply leaned forward onto his desk, looked Garrus in the eyes, and said, "Do it…"


	9. Master of Puppets

* * *

Mass Effect: "It's The Inside That Counts"

Chapter Nine – Master of Puppets

* * *

Poverty was still very much a near-unconquerable state of being, even as the whole of the galactic civilizations soldiered forth through the ages. Thus, a great many people from different ends of the Milky Way still resorted to the basic methods of receiving a steady income without the burden of application.

There were some who begged. Who would sit at a street corner on the borders of the Lower and Upper Wards and hold an outstretched hand or tentacle for a few spare credits. As it has always been throughout history, this act would become its own self-contained economy. The competition: Whoever could inspire the most pity.

There were some who sold whatever they had. Gaining possession of the right amount of stims could boast a pretty hefty return on the black market. There were also those who would steal from one person to sell to another. And, of course, those who would offer sexual services for a price.

But in the case of Jeanie Weaver, and the countless others who had gone to Doctor Saleon's clinic looking for some credits, all they had to offer was their life to the roulette wheel.

Saleon was very much in the organ trade, but was years ahead of his time in the illegal operation. In Garrus' investigation into the history of the trade, stealing cadavers, kidnapping innocents, or simply offering large sums of cash for organs had been the norm. But the doctor—the great pioneer—had gone about cloning his employees own organs within their chest cavities.

The return for such a sacrifice would be a hefty reward, so, to many, it was a no-lose situation. But Saleon was mum as to what would happen if the cloned organs turned out imperfect. The hapless volunteers were told, post-procedure, that they would be contacted twice in their immediate future. Once, to call them in for their preliminary tests. The second time, for the operation to remove the organs.

After all was said and done, payment would be delivered.

But most patients would only receive the one call, and then silence. Then, they'd be doomed to walk the Citadel for their now-shortened lifespan with an extra set of organs that their bodies would eventually reject. Most, like Jeanie Weaver, were dead within months after the procedure.

All of them, still waiting for the second promised call.

It was Garrus' hope that he'd give Saleon's victims the justice they deserved.

"How long until we arrive?" he asked Chellick. Their transport had just departed the Presidium ring and was now hovering at top speed through the traffic tunnels that led through all parts of the Wards.

"Not long," Chellick replied, knowing Garrus had a clear view of their travel status on the nearby panel as well. "S.R.D. is already en route to the clinic, as well as all of the properties that Saleon has on record. We also have Enforcement on the lookout with the doctor's mugshot. Shouldn't be a problem just as long as we can catch him quick."

They arrived at the clinic a few minutes later.

The Special Response Division was already checking in. The perimeter was secured and all units were ready to breach and clear the facility.

"Breach the clinic!" Garrus shouted over the comm, not wasting any time. "Go, go, go!"

The techs worked their magic, and every door in the facility slid open. The S.R.D.'s rushed in. The brief cracks of flashbombs exploding echoed through the air. Orders were huffed through the comm.

One minute passed.

The techs were brought inside the clinic to make another scan of all conduits.

Two minutes passed.

No hidden conduits had been detected. The techs continued on doing a hands-on sweep for lifesigns.

Three minutes later, and Garrus received a call over his comm.

_"Did a full sweep of the clinic, sir. He's not here."_

Garrus was stunned, but kept his mind active, trying to think of his next move. But out of the corner of his eye, he spotted someone familiar. Moving in closer, he found it was one of the employees that he had interviewed at some point over the last three months.

It was a human male. His hands were clenched together and he couldn't stop moving his legs.

Garrus ran up to him. "Did you see Doctor Saleon?" When he didn't receive an answer, he grabbed the man by his shoulders. "Did you see which way he went?"

The human started laughing incessantly, nearly to tears. "I thought he'd give me a reward…I thought he'd take it out of me…"

"A reward for what? Tell me!"

"For warning him…" The man started laughing again. "But he left me here! Haha! He left me here to die!"

Garrus released the human and motioned for one of the S.R.D.'s to take him into custody.

"What's going on?" Chellick asked as he caught up. "Was Saleon tipped off?"

Garrus nodded. "The human warned him we were coming, thinking that he'd get his operation as a reward."

"Oh, no," Chellick sighed.

"We're going to lose him, Chellick, if we don't find him within the hour. Contact the Patrol Division and Customs. Inform them of what's going on and make sure they contact us if Saleon tries to get off the station. Quick!"

"Right, but where are you going?"

"Going to have another talk with our prisoner."

As Garrus was leaving, the chatter over the comm increased. Looking back, everyone sweeping the clinic sprinted out the front door. As the last officer jumped out, the facility burst into flames. The concussion rocked everyone backwards, but it appeared no one had been harmed.

Saleon was covering his tracks, he mused. Garrus knew he didn't have long.

--

"I already told you everything I knew," Andela said, messing with her nails. "There's not much more you can get out of me, I'm afraid."

"You know that's not true," Garrus replied, sternly. There was no one around to play the good cop in this interrogation. "You were Saleon's right hand woman. You were the only one who he didn't cut open. So that tells me you were privy to a bit more than just the operations in the clinic."

The asari sighed and gave the turian a look of pity. "And just how do you figure that? I was just the receptionist. Saleon needed help with his operation at the clinic, that's all."

Garrus slammed his hands on the desk. "You're lying!"

"I'm not lying," Andela purred, with a grin. "I'm _hiding_ something, there's a difference. But, seeing how you've already given me my deal, there's not much of a reason for me to betray the doctor anymore than I have." She reached out and caressed the turian's hand. "It was nice to see you again, though."

"Stop this," Garrus growled. "You want to know what I think?"

Andela gave a smile and tilted her head, curious at what the turian had to say.

"I think, that we put you away for arson, murder, and for your part in the organ trafficking." Garrus sat down again. "But, you see, there's always been something nagging at me, because I honestly couldn't figure out why you were so interested in paying off Fist."

The asari's smile vanished.

"Miss Kal'deri, C-Sec has a witness that's seen you going into Chora's Den many, many times to drop a little cash. Until now, we've never investigated it, since that's not what our priority was. That whole pit is going down one day and I just assumed you'd be one of the many that would fall in its wake."

Garrus scooted his chair forward. "But, I'm sure that if we investigate this further that we'll find something brand-spanking-new to charge you on…Or!" He folded his hands together and smiled. "You can tell me what ship Saleon is going to be using to escape the Citadel."

"What?" Andela's voice cracked. "He's going to…"

"He's leaving you here," Garrus finshed. "His clinic's been emptied and he's nowhere to be seen, and I doubt he'll set up shop at the Citadel again with every officer in C-Sec looking for him. So, you need to start talking or else you're going to be getting your mind sterilized by your friends back at Thessia."

The asari sneered at Garrus for the longest time. Her eyes were remorseless, but her expression clearly communicated that she was somehow broken now. She had been a very strong-willed woman, and now she had been used by both sides of this conflict. She had nowhere else to go.

"If I help you, will you reduce my sentence?" she asked.

"I can't promise you won't do jail time, but I can see if expulsion from the Citadel in lieu of your sentence will be punishment enough."

"You don't sound very confident."

"I'm not. You've killed an officer. There's no hiding that and I wouldn't allow it even if I could. But, you won't be going to Thessia if you help us find the doctor. Anything that happens after that is a gift you don't deserve."

Andela thought it over some more, but her fear of the punishment she'd be facing on her homeworld had more than convinced her to cooperate as soon as it was brought up. "I'll give you his ship's registration number. I'll give you its name. I'll even give you the location of his dock, but you're not going to catch him. He's too smart. Too driven by his work.

"I'll pray that you catch him, because if you don't, then he won't stop at simple organ cloning. He's out to play God. He likes meddling in the workings of life. It makes him feel powerful to manipulate thinking beings. I'll tell you this, He. Will. Not. Stop."

The asari shrugged and moaned erotically. "What he does isn't good news for anyone. But that's why I loved him."

--

Garrus burst into the C-Sec Control Tower. Every operator in the room turned in surprise.

"I need someone to get a lock on the ship this registration number belongs to," he cried out.

A hand flew up at one of the terminals. "I can track it, sir."

The turian made his way over to the asari operator. "The number is—Tau, Heta, Xi, One, One, Three, Eight. Run it, give me a lock, and forward the signal to any Patrol ships in the area."

The operator's hands flew across the keyboard and honed in on the signal the number belonged to. "I have one reading. It's coming from a Kowloon-class conveyor registered under the name _MSV Fedele_."

"Has it already departed?"

"Yes, sir. It's locking in coordinates to the nearest mass relay."

"Are there any Patrol vessels in range to intercept?"

The asari brought up the launch schedule for the Patrol Division. "None, sir. Even if we scramble their ships, they won't reach the conveyor in time."

Garrus' adrenalin was pumping wildly through his veins. His heart was pounding and his muscles were as tense as they've ever been. He could see Saleon drifting away from the Citadel, laughing back at him as he did.

The turian wasn't going to let this end here.

"Coordinate with Citadel Defense under my authority, and tell them to shoot his vessel down on my command."

The operator, surprised to say the least, began opening comm channels to communicate with Defense. "Yes, sir," she said.

"And hail the _Fedele_."

"Yes, sir. Opening a channel."

There was a beep to indicate a connected line, and Garrus spoke with absolute finality. "This is Garrus Vakarian of Citadel Security to the owner of the _MSV Fedele_. We have a warrant for your arrest. You are to immediately land your vessel now and await an armed escort."

The delighted and high-toned voice rang back, _"I don't think I will comply as easily today, Detective. I have business in another system, you see."_

"If you _do not_ comply, Citadel Defense will be forced to destroy your craft."

_"You don't want to do that, Mister Turian. Not if you want my subjects to die with me as well. I was surprised at just how many of them decided to tag along with me on this ride...After promising them the operations they need, of course."_

Garrus was stunned numb. It was a hostage situation now. This typically would have persuaded him to tone down his approach, but if what he saw in Jeanie Weaver's case was any indication, he'd be doing those hostages a service by offering them a quick end.

They were already dead either way.

"This is your last warning, _Fedele_. Dock now or you will be fired upon."

There was no response. Only a low chuckle that could be heard amongst the static—and then, there was nothing.

Garrus turned to the operator before he could contemplate the situation. "Is Citadel Defense on standby?"

"They're awaiting your signal, sir."

Without another thought, the turian gave the word. "Fire."

The asari operator sent the command, and Garrus watched the radar closely so he could watch as the beacon representing the _MSV Fedele_ disappeared from the screen. He wanted to see it so badly, he didn't blink.

But, a minute passed and the ship was still moving towards the relay.

"Did they receive the order?" Garrus asked, aggravated.

"I'm sure they did." The asari checked the records to see if she made an error.

"Send it again!"

Frantically, the operator resent the command, but this time she was blocked out. "I—I can't send anything, sir. I'm being locked out."

"Why the hell would they—"

There was a call coming over Garrus' comm. _"Garrus, are you there?"_

Garrus didn't want to hear the Executor's voice, now of all times. "I'm here, Executor."

_"I understand that you're trying to disable a ship right now. The _MSV Fedele_, am I correct?"_

"Yes, sir. Our doctor is onboard with hostages. If we don't stop him now, he'll reach the relay and we might never be able to pick him up again."

_"I understand your concerns, Detective, but the situation is out of your hands."_

Garrus froze. "I don't…I don't understand, sir."

_"Saleon's ship is too close to the Citadel for us to shoot it down. A possible explosion could damage the station and possibly break containment."_

Everything started slowing down for Garrus. His order had been countermanded. There was nothing more he could do.

_"Vakarian, are you still there?"_ the Executor asked.

"Yes, sir…" Everything was growing dim. "Are you saying that we…just…let him go?"

_"I'm saying that firing on him is out of the question, Detective. Patrol Division has been alerted, and they'll be doing their best to catch him on the other end of the relay."_

"You don't know where he's going!" Garrus shouted. "He could be on the other end of the galaxy by the time Patrol gets organized!"

_"There's nothing to be done, Vakarian. Just be thankful he's not on our turf anymore. Let him slip up elsewhere."_

The commlink disconnected.

--

It had never been about keeping the Citadel safe. It had never been about keeping Saleon from impeding on his "turf". It was the simple fact that the doctor had harmed the innocent, made them bleed, and in turn, Saleon should bleed as well.

Life would always continue outside the Citadel, which was an idea that Garrus believed was lost on many at C-Sec—even on the Counsel. But it was enough for the majority that a serial killer was still breathing, as long as it wasn't in the Serpent Nebula. As far as they were concerned, it wasn't their problem anymore.

Months continued to tick away, but Garrus could never let the memory of the encounter go. His dreams would be plagued by the sight of Jeanie Weaver asking for his help. Her eyes would glaze over, her face would pale, and then she would be claimed by the darkness with Saleon's insidious laugh echoing through the turian's mind. Taunting him. Reminding him who had been the victor in his little game.

Occasionally, Garrus would call in a few favors and ask the captains of various starships to keep their sensors sweeping for Saleon's ship. There was no word for a while, but one captain returned claiming they had picked up the transponder signal for the _MSV Fedele_ out in the Kepler Verge, somewhere in the vicinity of the Herschel System. Though, the captain couldn't guarantee his sensors' accuracy, as they were passing through at FTL speeds.

Additionally, the captain would claim the name on the registration didn't match. The computer had the vessel registered to one _Doctor Regen Heart, M.D._

The irony was not lost on Garrus.

Not for a long time.


	10. Epilogue: Renegade

* * *

Mass Effect: "It's The Inside That Counts"

Epilogue – Renegade

* * *

_**-Three Years Later-**_

They told him his case had something to do with the incident on Eden Prime, a human colony on the edge of the Terminus Systems. Beyond that, his superiors were lax as to its importance.

"The humans are up in arms about this, but keep to your logic," the Executor said. "It's a colony at the end of the Traverse. They were bound to run into trouble out there eventually. Don't read too far into it. I know the Counsel isn't."

Garrus spent the day skimming through the report retrieved from the Systems Alliance vessel, the _SSV Normandy_. The more he read through it, the more it seemed like contrived bunk. A shakedown run that somehow managed to devolve into a skirmish with the geth, of all species. Then the humans were able to destroy a recently-uncovered piece of Prothean technology, all in the same day.

It was so amazingly random, yet, so compelling to read. He even had a good laugh about it a few times.

But the bit at the tail-end of the report disturbed him slightly. It read that a dock worker had witnessed the murder of a turian Spectre, Nihlus Kryik. This witness also claimed that the killer was none other than the Counsel's top agent, Saren Arterius.

Garrus tossed the datapad away, finding it almost unbelievable. But he was tasked to investigate all leads, so he followed through.

Unfortunately, since Saren was, in fact, a Spectre, every action the turian had made during his twenty-four year service in the Special Tactics and Recon Division was classified to the highest priority. No one outside the Citadel Counsel could access the files.

But Garrus did notice that not much activity had been logged recently. For a Spectre of such consistency, those large blank spots confused him.

Garrus dug deeper, all the way to the time before Saren was inducted into the Spectres, where his acts weren't locked down. Saren was very vocal about his dislike for humanity after the First Contact War of 2157, having lost his brother during the liberation of Shanxi.

Looking back over the report from the _Normandy_, Garrus couldn't help but feel that the humans had been telling the truth. It just didn't seem completely out of character for Saren. Either way, he needed more evidence to go on. So, he started questioning everyone who had supposedly gotten close to Saren in recent years.

He became obsessed with finding out more information on this Spectre. So much so, that he was soon called into a meeting with Executor Pallin at the Citadel Tower.

"I've been receiving complaints from various citizens claiming you interrogated them without a warrant," said the Executor, fairly irritated. "I asked you to see what you could dig up from where you sat. The last thing I need is for you to make a bigger case out of this than it should be. The Counsel's going to make their judgment in a moment either way."

Garrus saw the look in Pallin's eyes, and he knew he was about to get shut out. "Saren's hiding something!" he said, nearly at a shout. "Give me more time. Stall them!"

The Executor sighed and shook his head. "Stall the Counsel? Don't be ridiculous." He turned away from his detective. "Your investigation is over, Garrus."

It had been three years since his encounter with Saleon, and Garrus could feel himself being held back still. Evil sat squarely in front of the Counsel's eyes, but an ignorant system of law and procedure had blinded them. Saren was clearly hiding something, but the immunity he received from his rank as a Spectre kept everyone blissfully in the dark, even those who held him in suspect.

He wasn't going to let this case slide. He needed to know more. As the humans would say, he could feel it in his gut. He would bring Saren's sins out into the light to be judged. No matter what it would take. There would be no waiting this time.

Garrus turned to leave the Citadel Tower, but was blocked by a trio of humans. Two of them, a male and female, he didn't recognize. But the third, he had heard of this human's contributions to Citadel Space. Many were rumor, he could discern that.

Some said the human was the soul survivor they had pulled from the massacre at Akuze. Others say the human was posted at Elysium during the Skyllian Blitz, and emerged a hero for it. Then there were those dedicated few who believed their hero was the one they claimed destroyed an underground batarian bunker, and had surfaced victorious with only one-forth of the human's squad still living.

In any case, this one was revered. So, Garrus was compelled to make introductions.

"Commander Shepard?" Garrus nodded in greeting, unaware of the path to redemption the human would eventually lead him down. "Garrus Vakarian…"

And the rest was history.


	11. Closing Notes

**Closing Notes:**

Wee! It's finally done!

I'm excited for this to be done and over with for a few reasons:

This is the first fanfic that I managed to complete since my _28 Weeks Later_ fic, "Homecoming," way back in 2007. Every now and then, there comes a story that I just love to throw myself at. Or in some cases, there are characters on the side that I keep wishing had a bigger story on their own (Like Doyle from 28 Weeks Later). Garrus fell into this category, since I kept him in my party the entire game just to hear his little blurbs about each planet. He was such a great character, yet, so underutilized IMO. (Plus the voice acting was top-notch, which sold it all for me.)

It was a great opportunity/excuse to delve into the world that Bioware had created for "Mass Effect". I loved the game. I thought it was their best product since _Knights of the Old Republic_, though I don't think it surpasses it. Went out and bought the novel…which I didn't like, but it worked out since I was able to use it as a codex of sorts. Anyways…it was fun to research the universe.

I had been stagnant in my writing endeavors for a long time, and it took Bioware's inspiration, yet again, to get me going. It was a great feeling getting up in the morning and cranking out a quick chapter each day. It was like recess, almost.

As for the acknowledgments:

-Thank you, Bioware, for getting back into the genre that you excel at and making a brilliant game in the process. Hopefully, you guys find the time to make _Knights of the Old Republic 3_, cause this new MMO won't cut it for Revan fans like me.

-Thanks to the people who left reviews for me during the writing process. It's indefinitely helpful to hear get a few words of encouragement and, especially, criticism. Thanks for taking the time to not only read it, but letting me know what you thought:

R-I-C-A-R-D

Prioris

xXStonesoulXx

RattlesnakeGoingBackwards

Blackrain7557

Mister Buch

The Paladin

Meiza (Wow, every chapter! You are cool on several different levels!)

Also, there wasn't a whole lot to go on to make this story, but I did make some little diversions from what I had. Hope it didn't spoil it too much, as sometimes it was necessary for the story's sake.

Hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading!

-knight


End file.
